


I'd be lying if I told you I'm fine, but I lie

by annoyedraccoon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Drinking, M/M, future setting, idk angsty i guess, lance is overthinking a bit, nostalgic and silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 22:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7379317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annoyedraccoon/pseuds/annoyedraccoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance didn’t want them to worry, he always insisted he was fine, but as was proved every time Lance drank and stripped himself of the emotional walls he’d set up, it was obvious that attached heart of his hadn’t healed just yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'd be lying if I told you I'm fine, but I lie

**Author's Note:**

> this is. just. self indulgent pain? oh my god I don't even know I'm sorry, I'm just a big fan of sad thoughtful lance apparently (be prepared for musings and different povs?)

Lance’s insisting that Hunk and Pidge go with him bar hopping was always with the best intention. He wanted them to spend their free weekends together, the friends, the team, and have a good time. Even if they were only in the city for a week thanks to work, Lance wanted them to have fun. Hunk knew that, Pidge knew that.

“I wish he wouldn’t do this, ya know?” Hunk sighed, eating the last of his fries. He was completely sober, while Pidge had sipped on some martinis to feel a decent buzz. “Drink away his issues.”

“Eh, it’s what everyone does.” Pidge shrugged, stirring their drink with their pinkie. They still wore those glasses they didn’t even need. To keep Matt close, he guessed. “It’s not like he’s an alcoholic or something.”

Hunk pursed his lips, looking at the jacket and hoodie Lance had abandoned on his stool when he decided it was too hot inside. “Yeah but...I just worry about him. He won’t let us think there’s anything wrong, and then he just...”

“He was a ‘paladin of Voltron’, Hunk.” Pidge reminded him, mocking the religious way news channels talk about their giant robot. “He’s stronger than you think.”

Hunk rested his chin in the palm of his hand. “I guess.”

Pidge patted their friend’s back with a smile. “You worry too much, he—”

They heard excited hollering from the dance floor as a tall man, none other than their Lance, had his shirt off and waved it around like a cowboy would a lasso. 

“—We should probably take him home.”

He was definitely drunk off his butt, dancing in the middle of the dance floor with every eye on him. Which wasn’t surprising really, he was an intergalactic war hero, along with Hunk and Pidge. Journeyed on a legendary protector and saved the universe from the evil forces of Galra with his fellow paladins. Now he was with the Garrison as a fighter pilot, his childhood dream. That, along with the way he’d filled out since their teen years, his sun-kissed skin, warm eyes, and his charismatic persona he faked so well, he had people crushing on him from all over. Little did they know Lance was the biggest dork in the universe.

However, if tonight was any similar to every other night out, Lance had politely turned down all offers to do anything other than dance. A development of Lance that Hunk would have never expected.

Lance locked eyes with Hunk from their distance, and lit up like a firefly. He fought his way out of the dancers and found his way to his team.

“I’m so glad you guys are here.” He slurred, his eyes sparkling. His hair was sticking up weirdly like it’d been wet, so Hunk assumed he poured a drink out on himself again. “This is so great.”

Pidge smiled. “Put your shirt back on, Lance.”

Lance suddenly got serious, and grasped Pidge’s shoulders. “Pidge. Mi amigo. We have to get girls together. We—we would slay. Also—” He clutched them tighter. “I’m not sure where my shirt is.”

Pidge tried hard to look annoyed, but they were biting back a laugh. “Even if I wanted to, you wouldn’t even give any of those poor girls a chance.”

“Yeah but—” His eyes widened with a sickened expression. “ _ah mierda_.”

“Oh gees.” Pidge managed before Hunk grabbed his shirtless friend like a sack of flour and rushed out of the bar. Pidge followed behind, but made a face when they saw Lance throwing up in a bush along the sidewalk. At least it was a quiet night downtown, no one was witnessing Lance the Legend puking out his guts on the street.

“Just let it out, man.” Hunk patted his back. “At least there’s a bright side to the fact you took your shirt off, right?”

Pidge covered their mouth as if to stop from puking themselves. “I’ll...I’ll go in and find his shirt.”

Hunk nodded, careful not to look at the bile that was getting on his friend’s chin.

“Ew.” Lance said once his heaving paused. “S-sorry, Hunk.”

“A man gets used to it.” Hunk offered in comfort, to which Lance visibly winced.

“I uh,” He tried to sit up, but then coughed and dry-heaved again. “I always ru-ruin the night, don’t i?”

“Hey, not always.” Hunk retorted. “Pidge has ruined their fair share, too.”

Lance’s body shook with light laughter. Pidge came back, victoriously clutching Lance’s clothes as they rushed over.

“What’s the verdict?” Hunk said, taking a paper towel Pidge had also brought over.

“Eh, they just said shirts are in dress code.” Pidge shrugged. “It’s funny, how hard it is to get a paladin of Voltron banned from a bar.”

“Guys I...” Lance sat up on his haunches, finished with wiping himself clean of vomit. And then he turned to his friends, a pitiful frown on his lips, looking at them with glassy eyes.

See, there was a reoccurring issue with Lance when he was under the influence of alcohol. Back in the day, his homesickness would’ve been what left him sobbing. Hell, he didn’t even have to be drunk to get sad over home, and over his family. Now, he saw them every chance he got. But, now...

“...I miss Keith.”

Hunk felt his face drop into one of concern, as did Pidge’s. The two exchanged looks of tired sympathy. They were understanding, both feeling the same way yet knowing why it hurt so much for him, even after the years that’d passed. 

Once Galra was defeated, the plan was to go home. Everyone missed home, mostly. And it was on the promise that if they were needed, if Voltron was needed, Allura knew where to find them.

However Princess Allura admitted that having paladins stay with her would be nice—preferred, even. Because the job would never be done. Some of Galra’s forces, and maybe even new evils, would continue to rise, and someone needed to be there ready to fight it. And Earth really wasn’t ready for the huge universe that was out there and its threats—not yet. Despite the fact Allura had the castle and the forces of all the now free colonies that were grateful for their work, the paladins with their lions would always be her strongest weapon.

Shiro had always had a strong sense of responsibility. He felt honored to stay, and really, everyone knew he would do it, deep down. He wasn’t sure how he’d ever rest easy on Earth with the knowledge of what’s out there. 

And Keith? He’d really chosen to stay, too. He was an orphan, an orphan with alien connections, at that. He didn’t have a family to return to, or a home to go back to, he felt he needed to be out there in the far corners of the universe, defending the worlds. And in the red paladin’s own words, “ _I don’t belong there._ ”

When Keith made that decision...Lance had never looked so betrayed, defeated, purely broken-hearted.

Lance didn’t want them to worry, he always insisted he was fine— _Typical Keith, always so dramatic—Why would I be upset? It’s Keith, we all know he’s fine—What is there to get over, Hunk? Keith isn’t coming back, that’s that—_ but as was proved every time Lance drank and stripped himself of the emotional walls he’d set up, it was obvious that attached heart of his hadn’t healed just yet. 

“I m-mean, I miss everyone—Shiro, Coran, Allura... but he...” Lance took in a deep breath like he was restraining a sob. “Why did he stay, I wanted—I _wanted_...”

“We know.” Pidge helped the boy up to his feet, and pulled his arms into his hoodie and jacket. It was late October, afterall; he really shouldn’t be topless in this weather.

Lance’s head lulled forward while his friends flanked his sides in support, Lance’s arms draped over their shoulders. “You guys are great, I’m really glad you-you didn’t leave me.”

Pidge sighed. “To be fair, you left him.”

“ _Pidge._ ”

“but he-he was supposed to _go with me_! I—” Lance’s legs were practically useless, however he didn’t hesitate to suddenly leap up at his new idea. “I’M GONNA CALL HIM.”

“Lance!” Hunk cried as the drunken boy patted down all his pockets, murmuring “where is it, where is it—DID I LEAVE IT AT THE HOTEL—”

Lance went down on his knees in defeat while Pidge tried pulling him back up. He shouldered them away for melodramatic effect. “Lance, Allura only gave us the hailing devices for emergencies.”

“THIS IS AN EMERGENCY!”

“I wouldn’t qualify drunk dialing Keith an emergency.”

“That-THAT IS YOUR OPINION.”

Hunk squatted down besides Lance. “Dude. You know that to hail us from this distance uses Allura’s life force. We can’t try to contact them without it being life or death.”

“...Are they even gonna visit?” Lance grumbled, not meeting Hunk’s eyes.

“They’re...busy.” Pidge said. “I assume.”

“He _hates_ me.” Lance groaned into his hands, hiccuping. “I hate him, him and his stupid hair and—” He crossed his arms and put on a scowl remarkably similar to the one Keith would wear. “’Ohh, I’m Keith, I’m too _cool_ for Earth, fuck you Lance.”

“Lance, he thought it was for the best.” Hunk tried to offer. Despite how many times he’d had to see Lance hurt from this, it still bothered him. If only Keith knew how much Lance missed him. If Hunk knew Keith, he knew that Keith had no idea. “He thought you’d move on. He knew you would be okay, without him.”

“WELL HE WAS WRONG!” Lance exclaimed, Hunk and Pidge both flinching back. His eyes widened a bit as if realizing how he’d yelled, and then he sighed, defeated, looking at the ground. “Like freaking always. He was _wrong_.”

Most of the walk back to the hotel was quiet. Hunk looked up at the skyscrapers around them, and smiled. “You can kinda see the stars tonight.”

Lance rolled his head back up, and smiled painfully. “Do you think he thinks about me?”

“We were on a team with him on the most powerful weapon in the universe, of course he does.”

“I hope he does.”

It was a tiring journey, all with people staring at the incapacitated war hero grumbling insults at Shiro and Keith’s expense or complimenting his current caretakers, and then Lance wouldn't stop playing with the elevator buttons, but Hunk and Pidge eventually got Lance into his hotel room, cleaned up, hydrated and put in bed. 

“I’m across the hall if you need anything.” Hunk promised. “Although I’ll probably be asleep...Man, I really want to be asleep.”

“Hunk leave it.” Pidge groaned. “I’m next door, so just give a shout. But, please don’t need me.”

Lance grinned tiredly in response, and the two left him alone in the dark room. He really was grateful for them—Of course, he really was a great friend, taking them out like this so they don’t just sit in doing _work_ on the weekends—but he was happy they go to such lengths to make sure he’s okay.

However, his fuzzy hammered state that was screaming at him to just _go to sleep_ wasn’t stronger than what Hunk had said earlier. 

_you can kinda see the stars_.

Lance stumbled out of his bed, and for once he was grateful for the pink glow the city gave off; if not for it he would’ve tripped on _everything_ in the room rather than half of the furniture.

Flipping on the light, he dug around his clothes and other miscellaneous travel goods until he found it: a cardboard box starting to get worn with how frequently it was opened up and sealed time and time again.

He pulled it out of his bag and ripped off the tape. Lance felt his heart kick up with a nostalgic excitement as he pulled out the contents. 

A little worn, since it was the only stupid jacket Keith would wear, but still good. He wouldn’t admit to anyone the way he smiled as he touched the red and white material in his hands, remembering how it felt when it was on Keith’s shoulders. 

Lance took in a deep breath and trudged to the balcony, not bothering to put on shoes. The moment he got that sliding door open (a moment that lasted about a minute because the handle got confusing), he stepped out on the small platform towering over most of the city, a cold autumn breeze clearing his mind.

The city skyline was beautiful, black buildings against the city glow with red and white lights glinting off of them, cars and hovering vehicles headlights shining in slow traffic. It didn’t stop moving, even at night—something Lance liked about it.

But it didn’t beat the sight of the ocean. It also didn’t have the clear skies or salty smell, or that soft roar of waves always crashing against the sand. The city wasn’t home.

He’d really thought Keith was going to come home with him. He’d pictured it over and over—Keith staying with him, sitting on the beach together, Keith could meet his family and be a part of it. Lance wanted more than _anything_ for Keith to find a family in him. He thought he _did._

“You have so many people in your life, Lance.” Keith had said, when Lance confronted him about deciding to stay in space. “Why are you getting worked up over me?”

He’d said it rhetorically, mockingly, as if Lance didn’t have the answer. But he did. Lance had been seconds from saying it, the words that carried everything he felt, they almost fell out of his mouth right then. If that was what would make Keith change his mind, make him go back to Earth with him, and hell this might be his last chance to tell him—

But then Keith turned back to him, speaking in that determined, firm tone he tends to get when he needs people to listen, yet tender in a way that was only for Lance,

“So many people need you on Earth, so go be there for them. But there’s nothing on Earth that needs me.”

Me. 

_Lance_.

You know, the guy you’ve traveled with for probably years now? The guy who goes to you in the night when the homesickness and the nightmares are too much? The guy who couldn’t even function when he thought you might be dead, _that_ Lance? _I don’t care if I can survive without you by my side—I need you_. 

But in the end, Keith went through with it, and Lance let him go. Outwardly, anyway. And now, the thought of his friend was accompanied with fuzzy versions of the memories—his scowl, his laughter, the weird way his eyebrows furrowed when he slept naked beside him—as their time fell further and further into the past. Three years with nothing but memories; sometimes it made Lance feel like he hallucinated everything between them.

But whenever Lance took out Keith’s jacket, the musings became a little more real again. Clutching that fabric as he drew Keith in closer, brushing the front softly only to strip it off of him...

Lance had laughed at first when Keith handed over his jacket. A way to remember him, he’d said. The oldest line in the book and yet he said it with his face redder than the jacket and a heavy pout twisting his expression.

“You know I won’t look good in that thing, how am I gonna get ladies if I’m wearing this trash?” Lance had noted, but he took it anyway, and then mocked offense. “Wait, are you _trying_ to kill my game?”

“Maybe.” Keith smirked, while looking a little pained by the mention of these "ladies". Well, good, be hurt, Lance thought, however he rejoiced in the way Keith’s eyes widened as Lance pulled off his green parka, holding it out to him, “Take it. Mine’s a little more generous I think; _no one_ can look bad in this baby.”

The red paladin had looked so touched, taking the jacket with tentative fingers, his mouth slightly agape as his eyes discerned Lance. Their fingers touched, and Keith shot away from his hand quickly, as if touching Lance was a wound that would make it impossible to let him go. At least, that was what Lance hoped.

Lance pulled the jacket on in the present. He stood by the fact; it definitely didn’t suit Lance’s look and he never wore it. But it was Keith’s. And that was what mattered. He brought it along everywhere he went even if it made his travel bag a little more bulky. 

Lance leaned against the railing of his private room balcony, staring up at the sky. Hunk was right; while the moon was nowhere to be found, a few of the brightest stars twinkled through the city haze, white little dots reminding Lance of where he once traveled. And where Keith still was. At least somewhere, who knew if the stars he was looking at were in the direction of Allura and the paladins. Well, Pidge probably knew, actually.

Did Keith ever do this? Did he sit down outside the castle when it was dark enough to see the stars, and think about him? He wondered how Shiro and Keith’s days were spent, how often were they safe, how often were they in battle.

Keith was okay, Lance reminded himself, tucking his face closer to the collar of Keith’s jacket. Keith was okay and doing what he knew he had to do. 

Maybe one day, Keith and their friends would visit. Lance held on to that hope like the final strand to a snapping rope. Home wasn’t just his domestic family and the beach anymore. He would never feel at home without them. Without Keith.

“I miss you, jerk,” Lance said softly to the stars, wishing like a kid that it would transgress the light years between them. 

And maybe, even after all this time, Keith missed him too.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! -title is lyrics from "drowning" by Eden Project :)


End file.
